


To See if I Might Chime

by callmejude



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 02:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20089930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmejude/pseuds/callmejude
Summary: Robb just wants Theon to appreciate what he sees.





	To See if I Might Chime

Wine has made Theon pliant and needy, so when Robb leans in close and whispers in his ear, “Come with me,” Theon is helpless to follow.

Stumbling and giggly, Robb pushes him into his chambers, tugging at Theon’s clothes as well as his own as they fall inside. Theon feels heat crawling up his neck, embarrassed. He hopes Robb can’t tell how pink he is. His skin always gets so hot when Robb shows him attention, as if he’s burning alive from the inside. 

“I want to see you,” Robb murmurs, nuzzling his throat. 

But Theon is already naked to the waist, his light summer doublet and tunic in a pile on the floor, and lets out a breathy laugh, mumbles, “‘Ave you gone blind, then?”

“No,” Robb pouts, nipping Theon’s neck. “I want to see you — see you watch yourself.”

Theon stills. “Wh — what, Stark?”

“Like this, here,” Robb murmurs, kicking out of his breeches and leading Theon back against the wall.

Tripping over himself, Theon’s back slams hard against the warm stone of the wall, and air leaves his lungs in a rush. Robb holds him firm against the wall for a moment before he nods his head to the side, indicating the direction.

“Can you see?”

Theon glances, his eyes meeting his own reflection in Robb’s long silver mirror, standing in the corner of the room. 

Before Theon can answer, Robb’s wild mop of russet curls comes into view in the mirror, planting wet kisses down Theon’s throat. Again, Robb asks, voice lower now, “Can you see yourself?”

Swallowing, Theon nods. “I — I can.”

“Good,” Robb whispers. There’s something heavy in his voice, potent and dangerous. As if Robb has been wanting this since the first time, when they were barely more than boys roughhousing in the godswood. “Good, keep watching.”

Theon swallows. He’s not sure he wants to, really. There is a strange, removed sort of detachment in watching their reflection. Moving his hand and seeing his opposite move in the silver reflected surface. Seeing the seam where their bodies meet, pressed together. He can’t see much of Robb this way, just his hands, the back of his head when he presses close enough. 

Most of the time, Theon enjoys fawning over his own reflection, surely, but he’s never looked this way in his own mirror, blushing pink skin and clouded eyes.

As if reading his mind, Robb purrs in his ear, “See yourself? You’re so — pretty like this. Always so… pretty, you are. I want — want you to see.”

Humiliated, Theon watches his skin in the mirror turn blotchy red. In the mirror, Robb’s head moves, pressing a kiss to his ear.

“Don’t look away, Theon.”

A shiver racks through Theon’s body at the words. It no longer feels like an option, when he meets his reflection’s eyes again. It’s not what he expected. The arousal is writ on his own face, eyes wide, dark, and the blush spreading down his chest. In the mirror, Robb’s hands drift down to finishing to disrobe him, palms soft and warm on his skin.

“You’re gorgeous,” Robb whispers, face turned away from the mirror. “You agree, don’t you? Just beautiful.”

A shiver rolls down Theon’s spine again. He doesn’t think it’s beautiful. Weak. Soft. Girlish. In the silver mirror, he sees Robb’s body pressed against him, firm and strong, taller and broader than his own. Robb is beautiful, that much he knows. But hearing Robb call him that doesn’t feel like flattery. Instead it feels like something dangerous.

“Keep watching, you’ll see,” Robb assures him, fingers gentle as they trail down over his hips.

Silent, Theon does as he is bid. Robb’s hands disappear from view, but only for a moment before they return, soft and slick as they crawl along his skin. Theon watches as his own face changes when he feels a finger breach his entrance, eyes going wide and glassy, head falling back against the stone as he groans.

“There it is,” Robb purrs, pushing against him. “Don’t look away. I want — want you to see…”

Theon watches himself nod in the mirror, watches his body fall slack against the wall as Robb’s body presses closer, summery skin rosy bright against Theon’s own, holding him tight. Between their bodies, their cocks slide together, hot firm sparking along Theon’s insides, just out of sync with the gentle roll of Robb’s finger moving in him. It can’t be seen in the tarnish of the mirror, but Theon watches his own mouth fall open in a gasp when Robb pushes another finger inside him.

“Oh, Theon,” Robb whispers, free hand reaching up to brush over Theon’s mouth, “you really are so — beautiful.” 

Whimpering, Theon glances away from the mirror to meet Robb’s eyes, warm and gentle and blown wide. Robb is beautiful, too. Does he know, Theon wonders, how beautiful he looks, this way?

“Look — look at yourself, Theon, please. You’re so… beautiful.”

Hazy, Theon obeys, turns back to his reflection. His skin seems to glow against Robb’s body, sweat slicking the hair at his temples, rolling along his neck. As Robb slides his hand away, Theon moans, and his reflection falls away as the crown of his head drops back against the stone. He looks like a whore.

“Gods, Robb —”

“Legs around me, Theon,” Robb interrupts, voice soft. “I’ll take care of you.”

Theon does has he’s asked, kicking his legs up to lock around Robb’s hips. It’s impressive to watch in the mirror, how Robb’s arms manage to hoist him up, arms straining, shoulders rolling. Robb has grown so strong this past year. Not a boy anymore. Usually Theon finds himself mannish and handsome, but the way Robb is pinning him to the wall, working on his body like a fine instrument he feels utterly conquered. Unravelled. He can see it in his reflection. Girlish, he’d thought before. Feminine, soft. Is that how Robb sees him?

That should shame him. That’s he’s allowed this treatment from his captor’s son. Is he not ironborn? But watching himself, seeing his own reflection in the mirror, Theon feels something traitorous spark at the base of his spine. Robb’s cock breeches him slowly, and Theon watches it all. How his jaw falls slack, the green shrink away from his eyes. Robb’s face turns back into view, kissing the tendons of Theon’s throat as he thrusts forward.

“Robb —” 

Theon’s not sure what he means to say, the world around them is starting to fade, leaving only what he sees reflected in Robb’s mirror. Robb thrusts again, shoving Theon hard against the stone. It’s like flint striking against Theon’s spine, and he watches his body roll against the pressure, tongue sliding out to wet his lips. His skin has gone pink all over, bright and blotchy against Robb’s, sweat slicking over his skin where Robb has him pushed against the hot stone of the wall. 

“You look — so beautiful. Please…” Robb’s hand reaches up and snatches Theon’s wrist, slamming it hard against the stone. His voice is tense, shivering, and Theon groans. “Look at you. Th — Theon…” 

Theon sees it now, the way their bodies move together, working against each other. Theon’s hair has gone wild, his eyes nearly black. Robb is right. He’s beautiful. 

“Do you see?” Robb asks, voice breathless and frantic now. Theon nods, face burning red. “Say it, Theon, tell — tell me.”

Shame twists in Theon’s gut and he shakes his head, eyes clenched shut. It’s one thing to see it, but saying it aloud is humiliating. Something girls say as handmaids brush their hair. Robb presses tight against him, cock splitting Theon in half, and he cries out, pressed hard against the hot stone. 

“Say it,” Robb growls, and Theon can see him now, as he presses close. His eyes burning black, auburn hair flying about his face. His hand curls around Theon’s cock, and fire explodes along his nerves anew. “Say it, Theon, please —”

“I’m —” Robb’s hips lose rhythm, fucking into him so hard the pleasure melts along the edge of pain, turning Theon to a mess. “I — I’m…”

“You’re what, Theon?” Robb groans, hand gripping Theon’s wrist so hard Theon knows it will bruise when he pulls away. “Tell — tell me.”

“I am — I’m beautiful. I am. I —”

Theon turns away from the mirror now, meeting Robb’s close eyes again, sharp and black and wide.

“Oh, good boy,” Robb growls, pulling Theon down into a kiss. He drops Theon’s wrist to grab a fistful of his hair, holding him steady as Theon comes hard against Robb’s hand.

By the time Robb pulls away, Theon is limp, and drops heavy against Robb’s shoulder. Robb helps him ease his legs back down to the floor and wraps his arms around him, and Theon lets out a heavy breath against Robb’s neck. The humiliation swells and fades in pieces, and Theon reaches up to press a palm against the back of Robb’s neck.

“Was — was that alright?” Robb asks after a moment.

Theon nods. He doesn’t want to speak anymore. Robb doesn’t ask him to. 

He presses a kiss to Theon’s temple, and Theon sees his smile, in the mirror. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Velodrome" by Dessa


End file.
